


Falling

by wraithkeeper



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sickfic, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-22
Updated: 2011-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:37:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraithkeeper/pseuds/wraithkeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Neal doesn’t seem to realize yet that Peter wants to be there for him every time he falls, to help him back up and hold him close."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [usakeh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/usakeh/gifts).



> Written for [usakeh](http://usakeh.livejournal.com/) for all her work on [helpbrazil2011](http://community.livejournal.com/helpbrazil2011/). If you haven't checked out their charity auction yet, please do. There's still a week left to place bids or offer your own fanfic/fanart for this great cause!

Peter carefully helps Neal onto the bed, pulling a blanket over the younger man’s trembling shoulders. Neal half-heartedly tries to sit up, but Peter places a restraining hand on his shoulder. Neal had been trying to pretend that he wasn’t sick all day, even though Peter hadn’t believed it for a second. Peter knows he should have called him on it earlier, but he had let Neal try to maintain his dignity for half the day before insisting he go home to rest. Peter wishes he could stay with Neal, but they’d had a breakthrough on their current case and are close to an arrest. His team needs him there for it.

Neal seems to have admitted defeat against standing up, so Peter takes his hand off his shoulder and instead slips Neal’s cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He scrolls through the contacts before settling on the name that simply read _M_. Peter smiles briefly; of course Mozzie wouldn’t want his name recorded anywhere. Peter calls the number and sits down on the edge of the bed, where Neal immediately curls up against his side.

“You’re off early,” Mozzie says when he answers his phone, “I thought you were supposed to be doing the whole 9-5 thing.”

“Haversham.”

The line is silent, and Peter wonders if he’s going to get hung up on.

“What do you want?” Mozzie finally demands.

“It’s Peter Burke.”

“I know that,” Peter can practically hear him rolling his eyes, “I asked what you wanted, not who you were.”

Peter sighs. This other conman certainly doesn’t have Neal’s irresistible charm. And yet, when Peter says “Neal needs you” Mozzie doesn’t hesitate for one second.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.”

“Neal’s place. He’s sick and I have to get back to work.”

Mozzie snorts, “Of course you do.”

“Hey, I’d stay if I could,” Peter insists, and Mozzie pauses before he begrudgingly answers.

“I know.”

Then the line is dead and the only sound that’s left is that of Neal’s teeth chattering in the otherwise quiet room. Peter sits on the edge of the bed and runs his fingers soothingly through Neal’s sweaty hair until Mozzie arrives and lets himself into the apartment.

Neal’s eyes are closed as he hovers somewhere between sleep and pain, but one hand is outstretched and his fingers are clenching Peter’s pant leg. Peter gently pries Neal’s fingers loose and places his hand back on the bed, not wanting to wake him. When he gets up and the bed shifts, however, Neal’s eyes fly open immediately.

“Peter?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, Neal.”

“You’re leaving,” Neal states, not a question, and Peter hears so much more behind those simple words. He hears the disappointment and resignation mingled together, as if Neal has long expected Peter to abandon him but that it doesn’t make it any easier. Neal doesn’t seem to realize yet that Peter wants to be there for him every time he falls, to help him back up and hold him close. Peter swallows uncomfortably, wishing more than anything that he didn’t have to go right now. All he wants is to lie down on the bed and hold Neal’s shaking body until he’s better.

Instead, he squeezes Neal’s shoulder and promises, “I’m coming back.”

Neal offers a thin smile before his eyes drift shut again, and Peter isn’t sure how much longer he can stand by and watch Neal suffering through his pain alone. He doesn’t know how many more smiles won’t quite reach up to those dazzling blue eyes, or how many more nights Neal must wake alone, screaming from the nightmares and with no one to comfort him.

Peter turns away before he talks himself out of leaving, as he knows will be so easy.

“Thank you,” he offers to Mozzie, before he flees the apartment.

This wasn’t what he’d expected seven years ago, when he’d jumped at the chance to take on the case of the infamous Neal Caffrey. He’d known he could catch the kid, he just hadn’t known what he was walking into himself. He had never seen it coming.


End file.
